


The Prince and the Scullery Maid

by LuccaAce



Category: Schneewittchen | Snow White (Fairy Tale), Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Genre: A little bit of angst, F/M, Fluff, I got those names from a Disney wiki, POV First Person, Slow Build, Story told from the prince's perspective, The prince and Snow White met before the movie, and his horse's name is Astor, and they liked each other, the prince's name is Florian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuccaAce/pseuds/LuccaAce
Summary: "I had no idea she was even a princess. Perhaps it was silly of me, to get so attached to someone I was convinced was a serving girl, but I would dare anyone to meet her and not fall a little bit in love."Based on the 1937 Disney movie.





	The Prince and the Scullery Maid

**Author's Note:**

> My roomie and I were watching Snow White, and I realized that the movie doesn't explicitly say that they met for the first time by the "wishing well." So I was going to write a tiny little bit of fluff that explained that they had actually met before. And then it got a bit longer than I expected. Whoops.
> 
> Unbeta'd, so please let me know if you see any errors that I need to address.

It started about a year before her disappearance. At the time, I had no idea she was even a princess. Perhaps it was silly of me, to get so attached to someone I was convinced was a serving girl, but I would dare anyone to meet her and not fall a little bit in love.

She was always singing. That was the first thing I noticed. Whether it was into the well, along with the birds, or simply to herself as she swept the cobblestones in the courtyard, some tune or other wafted over the castle walls like the song of a siren. Except, instead of luring me to my death, she was drawing me into brightness and joy.

The first time I heard her, I had not planned on riding close to the castle. I was simply going to see some representative of the Queen's to hear him tell me that no, they were still not interested in trade with us. My father, good man that he is, knew how beneficial trade would be between our lands, and he refused to take no for an answer.

"That's fine for you to say," I told him, with what I thought was remarkable patience. "But I'm the one who has to go over there every two weeks to negotiate."

Father smiled warmly at me. "You're a good lad," he told me. "And downright charming, too. If you can get an audience with Queen Grimhilde, then I know you'll be able to sway her."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "I am feeling a little objectified," I informed Father.

He laughed heartily. "What good are good looks for, anyway? You might as well use them while you have them, but never forget that they are fleeting. Even the loveliest woman will age. Her skin will wrinkle and her hair will gray, but if she has a good spirit, then her inner beauty will shine all her life."

"Yes, Father," I agreed, turning around so he could not see me roll my eyes.

 

 

I rode out to Queen Grimhilde's kingdom, already planning on the next trip. This time, at least, I was meeting someone near the castle. Perhaps that was a good sign — I was no longer forced to endure the strain on my honor that came with having to be turned down by a lesser member of the merchant's guild in the dirtier part of the Queen's city.

My meeting with one of the Queen's trade advisers went reasonably well, but it still ended in disappointment. I bowed slightly to him, understanding that he really was only the messenger, and decided to go the long way home. Usually I went down the main thoroughfares, and the trip only took about a day. This time, however, I wanted more time to lick my wounds before reporting yet another failure to my Father.

As I rode by the back of the castle walls, intending to go home through the forest, I heard the most amazing singing. It was clearly a female voice, but it sounded like birds and sunshine and pure, unadulterated happiness. I steered Astor over to a shorter part of the wall, where I could hoist myself up a bit while still sitting on him. I had to see who was singing.

When I peered over, I was stunned to see a beautiful young scullery maid singing to one of the hunting dogs. The dog looked as smitten as I suddenly felt. A small, silly part of me was even a bit jealous of him for being the focus of her attention.

So focused was I on the scene in front of me, I did not notice that I was overbalancing until it was almost too late. I let out a yelp as I scrambled to right myself, to Astor's obvious amusement.

The scullery maid's singing cut off on a high questioning note. Her eyes met mine, and I felt my face heat in embarrassment. That was certainly a way to make a first impression.

I waved sheepishly at her, and she also went a little red before ducking behind a tree. I waited a few moments, and she poked her head around the trunk to see if I was still there. This time a grinned broadly at her, making her giggle and duck back around.

Astor huffed at me, clearly not impressed with my courtship techniques. When she did not appear again, I sighed heavily to myself.

"You're a fool," I told myself sternly. "And you need to get home."

Just as I dropped back firmly into the saddle, I saw her chocolate eyes peeking around again. I thought about getting back up there, but I knew Father would be waiting for me at home.

 

 

Two weeks later and I was back, trying yet again to get an audience with Queen Grimhilde. I sat in the same room, talking with the same adviser, and got the same answer. Again, I took the route that led me around the castle walls in hopes of hearing another lilting song from the scullery maid. 

This time it sounded like she was singing to some baby birds in a nest. She crooned about how happy they should be to feel the love of their parents, and trilled a line about freedom and flying away. Astor neighed judgmentally at me as he stopped to let me peer over the shorter wall. I patted his nose gratefully nonetheless before I pulled myself to rest on my elbows as I watched her.

She did not see me peering over the wall, and the sorrow and longing in her unguarded face made me realize how disturbing my actions were. How dare I spy on this innocent creature?

I scrambled down onto Astor's back again. The scuff of my boots against the tree bark drew her gaze, but I refused to meet her eyes as she slid out of view. 

When I arrived at home, Father could tell immediately that something was amiss.

Hanging my head, I admitted to him, "I have behaved shamefully."

Father put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure it's not as bad as that," he said. "Tell me what happened."

I explained the way that I had spied — twice! — on the unsuspecting scullery maid in the courtyard of Queen Grimhilde castle. 

"I was so overcome with her beauty, that I lost sight of my own honor. I'm not —" I interrupted myself, shaking my head to try and clear it. "I'm not excusing my behavior. It was wrong, and I believe I am right to be ashamed of myself. But she just seemed so…" I trailed off, remembering the longing in her voice as she sang to the little birds about the love of their parents.

"So?" Father asked gently.

I shrugged. "Lonely," I said at last, finally able to meet his eyes.

"Well then," he said gruffly. "This is a pickle. On one hand, if she's lonely, she might be needing a friend. But it still is quite rude of you to spy on her when she is unaware."

"So what should I do? Announce my presence every time I go to see her?" I scoffed, then abruptly stopped when I saw the serious look on Father's face. "Father, be serious."

He grinned, a mischievous look that most of the court would swear he was incapable of making. "Why, my dear boy, that sounds like an excellent idea. Then she would perhaps be less lonely, and you can maintain your honor."

I deliberately restrained myself from rolling my eyes. "That's ridiculous," I informed him. "I will simply have to stop peeking over the wall at her."

"That is also a solution," he admitted, but the impish gleam remained in his eye.

 

 

My next visit, I swore that I would only take the way through the woods so that I could hear a bit of the scullery maid's song. This time there were no words to her music, only happy little warbles and trills. She sounded positively joyful, and I could imagine what such an emotion would look on her face.

"I hate when my father is right," I told Astor with a sigh. He merely snorted at that and went to the wall of his own volition. This time, instead of perching precariously from my horse, I decided to hop onto the wall so she could see me.

Her face shone with joy and peacefulness as she hummed the happy tune to herself while sweeping the stones of the courtyard. I hummed a few bars along with her, suddenly intensely grateful to my childhood teachers for making sure I knew how to sing.

She startled, rushing behind yet another tree. I decided that I would stay unless she started to seem actually afraid of me. When she peered around again, I grinned broadly at her. She blushed prettily, then hid again.

This time, I stayed put. My legs dangled on the opposite side of the wall, making me twist somewhat awkwardly to see her, but I did not want her to think that I would physically encroach on her space. I only wanted to see her and listen.

She peeked out again, and I took up humming the song she had been singing. The scullery maid giggled, then began singing again. She took up her broom once more, continuing her work, but her eyes flicked up to mine regularly.

I tarried for half an hour on the low wall surrounding the courtyard, but then Astor nibbled gently at my ankle, reminding me that I needed to get on.

"Farewell," I called out to her.

"Oh," she said, then giggled into her hands. She waved shyly back at me.

I hopped back onto Astor and continued humming the song all the way back to my home.

Father took one look at me when I arrived and grinned. "So did you take an old man's advice?"

"You're not that old, Father," I told him.

"So you did," he guessed, then laughed when I shrugged and wouldn't meet his eye. "Did you have an actual conversation with the girl this time?"

I shrugged again. My tutors would be appalled by my behavior. "Not really," I admitted. "She's quite shy."

"But she was aware of your presence, at least?"

"Yes, sir," I answered. 

Father clapped me on the shoulder. "Good lad. Now for the trade report."

 

 

Things continued like that for a while. I always left via the forest road, and I always stopped to spend fifteen minutes to half an hour with the beautiful girl. She never spoke to me, still too shy, but she began to sing a little more directly to me. 

She sang of friendship and flowers and even, once, of brave horses who love their masters. Astor preened the whole way home after that one. I listened raptly, and even hummed along sometimes. We still didn't speak, but I felt connected to her in a way I had never felt connected to anyone. 

I came from a meeting one day feeling better than usual. Queen Grimhilde had greeted me herself, even though she had not stayed for the meeting. She had certainly earned her title of the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen, but I could not help but to think that the scullery maid with the angelic voice was more lastingly beautiful. As she continued to age, Queen Grimhilde's stern face and hard heart would eventually expose her inner ugliness — for I had learned much of her mistreatment of her people and her land in the time I had spent traveling between my kingdom and hers. But the maid, her beauty would only increase as silver touched her hair and laugh and smile lines adorned her eyes and mouth. 

When I stopped at the courtyard that day, I propped one knee up on the wall, turning more fully than I had before to face the maid.

"Oh, hello," she greeted me. I felt my face split into the most pleased grin I had ever had. 

"Hello," I greeted back. 

She smiled into her hand, half turned away, but then faced me again and squared her shoulders. "What's your name?"

"Florian," I answered honestly. I wanted to ask for hers, but I was terrified of scaring her off again.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Florian," she said, and curtsied prettily. 

"You as well, milady," I replied, nodding back at her. "You have a lovely singing voice."

She smiled down at her shoes. "Thank you, sir. Yours is nice, too."

"High praise," I acknowledged. "Especially coming from one as accomplished as you."

"Oh, goodness," she exclaimed, shaking her head. "What on earth makes you say that?"

The girl had some spunk in her after all, once I made it past her shyness. I felt myself grinning again.

"Astor here has a keen ear for musical talent," I informed her in an exaggerated whisper, leaning down to pat my horse's neck. "And he assures me that yours is the best voice he has ever heard."

"Well thank you, Astor," she said, and Astor neighed happily. She laughed outright at that. If her giggles were pretty, her laughter was downright gorgeous.

Just then, a voice began yelling something I could not quite make out from inside the castle. She exclaimed in surprise and ran toward her broom.

"Oh dear," she said, grabbing it (and giving me time to get over the shock of her beautiful laughter). "I must go. Goodbye!"

"Goodbye," I managed to choke out, then hopped down onto Astor's back.

I found him looking at me, completely unimpressed. 

"What?" I asked. "You do think she's got the best voice you've ever heard."

He snorted, tossing his head and rolling his eyes in annoyance, before trotting down the forest path. 

 

 

For six weeks — three meetings with the maid — things went much the same. She never told me her name, and I never pried. She obviously had something to hide, and I wanted more than anything for her to feel comfortable with me. Still, we learned about each other's favorite things and had deep conversations about music and literature. For a scullery maid, she had extensive knowledge about such things.

Then one week, I got out of my meeting a little early. I had been meeting with three of the Queen's advisers, as well as the head of the Merchant Guild, and I felt good about the trade prospects. The maid knew a little about my errands to her kingdom, and she had been very encouraging two weeks before when I had been certain that there was no hope.

As I rode up to the wall, I heard her singing into the courtyard well.

"I'm wishing… for the one I love… to find me… today," she sang, letting the well echo her words back. 

My heart began thundering in my chest. I wanted so badly to be the one she was singing about.

"I'm hoping… and I'm dreaming of… the nice things… he'll say," she continued. 

I could not help myself. As she continued singing, I knew that she was singing about me. I cannot remember climbing the wall or crossing the courtyard, but I found myself at her side.

I joined in singing with her, and she startled, but stayed there.

"Hello," I greeted. Then, seeing the wideness of her eyes, I asked, "Did I frighten you?"

She scurried across the courtyard to a door leading into the castle.

"Wait," I tried, following at a slower pace. I didn't want her to think I was chasing her. I just wanted to talk to her face to face. "Don't run away," I pleaded, then internally kicked myself when she slammed the door. 

Still. What did I have to lose? I began singing the song that I had been writing ever since the second time I saw her. I sang of the things I felt, how I felt as though my very heart beat for her. She came out onto a balcony as I sang, and sent a dove down with a kiss for me. I greeted it happily, then watched with wonder as it flew off after delivering its marvelous gift.

The maid smiled at me as she drew the curtains, and I had never felt happier.

I rode home in a daze, and not even Astor's wordless heckling could ruin my good mood.

"Something must have happened," Father observed after one look at my face.

I laugh. "Yes sir," I admit. "She, well, I think I scared her, but then she sent me a kiss. I think I'm in love."

Father laughed happily at that. "I could have told you that, son. Here, tell me all about it over supper, and then we'll get to trade talk."

"Oh! The trade!" I smack myself in the forehead. "That's going wonderfully, too. It really was the best day." 

I go over all the details of the meeting with the advisors and the progress that was being made with the advisors. "I haven't seen Queen Grimhilde since that one time," I admit. "But I am sure I will meet with her again soon."

"Excellent," Father said, compliment clear in his eyes and voice. "Now tell me more about this girl of yours."

I felt my face go warm. "I don't know if she is  _ my  _ girl, Father."

"Just the girl you are in love with," he said. I shrugged.

He pressed me for details, and I was never so grateful that we often had these discussions just between the two of us. I felt younger than I had in a long while, and Father simply listened and encouraged. He loved seeing me happy, and I found myself leaning across the table and taking his hand.

"I am so lucky," I told him fervently, "to have you as my father."

"Oh, well," he managed, before clearing his throat. He blinked the moisture out of his eyes quickly, but his smile was full only of joy. "You make me feel like the luckiest father in the world."

I held onto his hand a while longer, full of affection and hope for the future.

 

 

But then, I did not see my scullery maid the next time I was in her country. I did not see her the time after that, or the one after that. She had disappeared, as though into thin air.

After three months of not seeing her, I finally broke down and wept into Astor's white mane. She was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to write a second chapter that covers the second (of two!) scenes in the movie with the Prince. Fun fact: Disney didn't develop his character more because dudes are apparently hard to animate.


End file.
